


Slap Bet

by whitecrossgirl



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Jaime's an idiot and he deserves it, Slap Bet, fuck season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 02:11:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21110981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitecrossgirl/pseuds/whitecrossgirl
Summary: Jaime and Brienne make a slap bet at Harrenhall. After Jaime loses the bet, Brienne now has five chances to slap Jaime across the face as hard as she can. Those slaps could come in very handy.





	Slap Bet

The slap bet had been an ongoing agreement between Jaime and Brienne ever since Harrenhall. They had made the bet on a whim of Jaime’s; he had insisted that they could trust Lord Bolton whereas Brienne was certain that they could not. The man’s wavering allegiances between Houses Stark and Lannister did not bode well in her eyes, however Jaime had insisted that no one who swore loyalty to the Lannister’s would dare betray them. Jaime was wrong. However as so much happened in such a short period of time, that it was only when they were safely away from Harrenhall; that Jaime remembered even making the bet in the first place.

“Well, aren’t you going to claim your prize? You won the bet. Bolton shouldn’t have been trusted.” Jaime claimed as they stopped by a stream to refill their waterskins. 

“Is this the right time?” Brienne asked before she remembered herself. She had won the bet. Five slaps that could be given to the loser at any point from here to eternity. They would be useful. Very useful. She couldn’t just waste them on Jaime’s usual foolish antics. She’d have to save them for a special occasion. “Then again, I suppose you’re right.”

Brienne raised her hand to Jaime, who instinctively flinched and Brienne allowed herself a rare smile. She didn’t realise he would be so skittish. “Very funny,” Jaime remarked.

“It was,” Brienne agreed as she wandered away from the riverbank. She waited until Jaime was at her side before she turned and struck him across the face. The force of the slap and it’s unexpectedness caused Jaime to stumble backwards over a tree root and fall to the ground. Jaime rubbed his scarlet cheek as Brienne raised a finger.

“That’s one.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me that she’ll be safe in Kings Landing.” Brienne challenged, staring Jaime out. She had thought that she had done the right thing returning him to the capital. She had kept her oath, they had become friends on their journey and their shared experiences had made both of them into better people. Yet it seemed the moment he returned to his family, Jaime had also returned to the arrogant, snarky prisoner she had met so long ago. 

Jaime seemed to struggle for an answer before he fell back onto his usual, arrogant sarcasm. “Are you sure we’re not related? Ever since I’ve returned, every Lannister I’ve met has been a miserable pain in my arse. Maybe you’re a Lannister too? You’ve got the hair for it, but not the good looks.” 

Brienne decided not to answer and Jaime realised a second too late that he had made a mistake. He hadn’t insulted Brienne since Harrenhall; partly because of their friendship but also slightly because of the leverage that she held over him. As her hand swung forward, Jaime tried to brace himself for the force of the blow that was to come.

_ CRACK!_ Sansa’s head turned at the sound of the crack echoing down into the Godswood. She looked up towards the source but only found Ser Jaime standing by the stone railing, wincing as he clutched his aching cheek.

Two down, three to go.

“Ser Jaime,” Brienne called, walking after Jaime as he followed Cersei across the Dragon Pit. She refused to believe that Jaime could have just walked away after seeing that thing. How could this be the Jaime she knew? The one who wanted to redeem his honour, do the right thing had somehow been reduced to Cersei’s lapdog. The Jaime she knew on the roads, the Jaime she had seen at Riverrun, wouldn’t have done this. He would have insisted on riding North, on fighting the Army of the Undead. She was determined to reason with him.

“It’s good to see you again. I imagine the next time will be across a battlefield.” Jaime stated. He refused to turn around. If he looked into her eyes, he would be lost. He hadn’t expected her to be here. Seeing her again was like stepping into the sunlight for the first time. Like he had finally been able to see clearly, see the truth once more. He had seen who he had been, who he was now and who he was meant to have been all along.

“You can’t ignore that. We both saw that, that thing!” Brienne insisted as Jaime cut across her.

“And I’m not looking forward to seeing more of them. But I am loyal to the Queen and you’re loyal to Sansa and her dolt brother.” Jaime replied as Brienne grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her.

She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to shake him by the shoulders until some sense or reason fell into his head. She wanted to make him open up his eyes, remember who he was. As they made eye contact, Jaime’s defences seemed to lower as he waited for her anger; her scolding, her insistence. Instead, for the third time, she struck him soundly across the face. The force of the slap sent Jaime to his knees and the sound echoed around the Dragon pit; catching everyone’s attention and turning all eyes to them. Most, like Daenerys and Jon looked surprised at the composed Brienne striking Jaime so viciously. Tyrion looked bemused at the sight of a dumbstruck Jaime on the ground clutching his face. Cersei however looked enraged.

“Why did you strike him?” Cersei asked, ready to instruct Ser Gregor to remove the beast’s head from her shoulders. She had always suspected there had been something between them; rumours had reached her about Riverrun and she had caught that look between the two of them as she and Jaime had first sat down in the pit. Maybe it would also keep Jaime in line if she slaughtered the beast like the animal she was.

“That’s three.” Brienne warned quietly as Jaime spat out some blood and turned to Cersei.

“Slap bet.” Jaime explained and Cersei nodded. 

“Carry on.” Cersei stated; despite all her actions, all her crimes, she could still respect the sanctity of a slap bet. They had been her first experience of using bribery and fear tactics to get her way. 

“This goes beyond houses and loyalty. Speak to the Queen.” Brienne advised as Jaime pushed himself up. Just as he was about to stand, Brienne struck him again, sending him crumpling to the ground once more, hitting his head off of the ground and cursing in pain. “That’s four.”

“You need to come and see this.” Podrick advised Brienne as he led her through one of the few passageways that had survived the devastation in Kings Landing. All the violence, all the bloodshed, all the fire and death that had led to what? A destroyed country? A melted throne? No one was sure of anything anymore. No one knew where their place was in this world. Brienne wasn’t sure that she actually needed to see what Podrick wanted to show her but she knew that if she refused, he would just bother her about it until she did. 

“Very well,” Brienne said, her hand ghosting over her stomach as she stood. The slight swell, almost unnoticeable, was the only reminder she had willingly carried with her of her and Jaime’s affair. Jaime himself was gone, buried under a pile of rubble. Although his memory lived on in her mind. Brienne let Podrick lead her to a chamber that she was certain was once the Small Council room. Podrick knocked once and opened the door. Brienne entered the room and froze at the sight of the wounded, dishevelled man standing next to Tyrion. 

It couldn’t be… he was dead…

“Brienne,” Jaime whispered, his voice rasping, as if he had forgotten how to use it. “I’m so sorry,”

Brienne stepped forwards slowly, still not daring to believe that it was real, that he was real. It was only when she was standing right in front of him, feeling his breath on her face and she reached out to cup his cheek, to feel the soft skin under her fingers did she believe that it was real. He was here. He was alive. She wanted to embrace him, yell at him, kiss him and also kill him for everything he had done to her. She was relived that he was alive but she was also furious at what he had done.

She didn’t even try to stop the slap and Jaime seemed to be on her wavelength as he didn’t duck or try to deflect the blow. Instead he took the slap, his weakened state crumpling to the floor. He hissed with pain as his broken arm and still-healing stab wounds hit the floor but it was a pain he had to bear.

“All right, that one I did deserve.” Jaime gasped as he tried to stand once more as Brienne shook the imaginary sting from her hand and turned on her heel.

“That’s five.”


End file.
